The Guide's entries on one John Watson
by Yuki F. Karasu
Summary: Series of John-centric(usually crossover) one-shots, 3; John, in the pub, with his... What do you mean his WIFE?
1. John's Towel

**A/N: Hello new fandom! HAPPY TOWEL DAY EVERYONE! ^ . ^**

 **If you're here from one of my other stories, thanks for reading!**

 ** _This will be a bunch of_ _one-shots_ _from about three different universes(but probably mostly just randomness),_**

 ** _Hope you enjoy this first one!_**

* * *

 _John Watson was a man with odd quirks no one could explain; not his family, not even the great Sherlock Holmes._

 _For starters, the doctor always had a towel with him, always._

 _When asked about this strange habit he looked at the asker as if they had gone insane and told them the towel was an absolutely essential part of life and had many different uses._

 _One encounter happened as such:_

* * *

It was a fine summer day in London, and it was the first day without rain since the Sunday past.

Sherlock had been called for a double homicide, dragging John with him, of course.

Though Sherlock had mostly deduced the murder before lunch, he was missing one crucial piece to the puzzle... the suspected killer's phone.

While everyone was thinking of ways to obtain the phone no one noticed that the blonde doctor had disappeared.

Once they did he was already back, in his gloved hand the phone they were all looking for.

Even Sherlock looked impressed.

"How did you do it?" was the common question asked.

He smiled mischievously and said, "With the help of my towel!"

DI Lestrade looked at the doctor like the man was truly insane ( _a possibility that was looking more and more likely the longer the DI spent with the man.)_

Finally, it was Sally Donovan who asked the disbelieving question.

"How could a towel possibly help you get that phone?" she asked.

John stared at her, though in all honesty everyone at the scene was wondering just that.

Slowly and carefully he spoke his answer. "I convinced him I was a trustworthy traveler who needed to borrow his phone to ring my own. After all, if a traveler still has his towel he must be responsible for his things and must not be asking lightly."

With that he turned and walked off the crime scene, handing Sherlock the phone as he passed by.

That wasn't the last time either. John Watson had multiple times obtained items with his traveler disguise and his towel.

Sometimes they were absurd items for the ploy too, such as a man's watch ( _which held a fingerprint that proved something or other),_

a very old pipe ( _used for neither tobacco or drugs, instead to hide a priceless jewel in plain sight for the past ten years),_

a woman's passport ( _that not only confirmed she had been in London a week earlier than she claimed but revealed she had several aliases)_

and an old picture of the friends and family of a victim from the killer, who was at the time secretly running from the police. ( _At first everyone, including Sherlock, thought the picture made no real difference to the case, as all evidence pointed to the victim's maid. But after it was revealed the maid was involved with a drug dealer at the time and unable to be the killer, the picture revealed the killer had taken it from the victim.)_

* * *

In the end, even Sherlock was resigned to saying that the towel did seem to help convince others to help John. ( _Though he had no idea how, and reluctantly left it at some odd thing in the human psychology as the culprit*.)_

When DI Lestrade met Harry Watson ( _who had witnessed a robbery and was, fortunately, sober_ ) after they solved the crime (a desperate man needed some quick cash, was told by some shady acquaintances about a vulnerable house), asked the older sibling why her brother always carried a towel.

She shrugged, she had no idea why. Though she did give this tidbit of information.

"I honestly don't know why, but I remember that it started when he was five and he said that his imaginary friend told him to."

She also revealed that the imaginary friend's name was Ford Prefect, who John fully, 100% believed was very, quite, real _(and quite, maybe, possibly he still did today.**_ )

Not that anyone would confront him about being just a tad mad, not when it was entirely obvious that he most likely, definitely was. You had to be if you had been living under the same roof as Sherlock for little under a year.

* * *

* _Though as we all know this is in no way just a product of Homo Sapiens nature. We here writing Hitchhiker's guide companion book, "_ Information on Some Less Important Things, But You Still Find Interesting _", had our workers test the towel truth_ (would it really get a Strag [ _non hitchhiker_ ] to loan you stuff) _and found that 97.98979738% of the time that yes, it would._ (The exceptions being a few species and a few individuals who were particularly stubborn.)

* * *

* _In fact, other than a few very odd universes that may_ (or ever) _never exist, John Watson has always known someone named Ford Prefect. Though the role and importance of the man, alien, or another entity varies._

* * *

 _Notes for those concerned with the mental state of our dear Doctor._

 _Doctor John Watson is of average mental stability for a man who has spent most of his life hitchhiking, an impressive feat for spending so much time in company of those such as Trillian Astra_ (formally Tricia Marie McMillan), _Zaphod Beeblebrox_ (the best galactic president ever if you go by the secret duty of the president), _Marvin the Paranoid Android_ (a perpetually depressed robot), _and one Ford Prefect_ (whose true name no one other than his father could pronounce, not even himself, after the Great Collapsing Hrung Disaster of Gal./Sid./Year 03758, _)_

 _According to our consultant psychologists the average mental state of a Hitchhiker is nowhere near the galactic standards for mental health, fortunately, an exception has been made for Hitchhikers as they are generally considered enjoyable people who tend to know excellent stories and how to make a fantastic Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster._

* * *

 _End of entry._

 _Copyright "_ The Official Unofficial Companion Book to the _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy;_ Information on Some Less Important Things, But You Still May Find Interesting _"_

 _Published Earth Year 2016, by the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor._

 _If you find this book for free anywhere but from a fellow Hitchhiker please assume it has been stolen or hacked from our database and return to the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor next time you Hitchhike there, you will be given a free copy from one of our resident Hitchhikers._

 _This entry was written by the current head writer for everything involving, related to, or incorporating_ Earth _(see entry);_ Yuki Iffroo _(see entry) originally from_ Traffii Vleb _(see entry), who previously wrote for_ the Guide _(see entry.)_

* * *

 _ **A/N: So what did ya think? I'd love to know! I don't know when the next one-shot will be up, could be a few days, could be a month, sorry. : 3**_

 ** _Oh! The universes will be these;_**

 ** _A; Hitchhiker's and Sherlock happen in same universe, John is Arthur Dent_**

 ** _B; Hitchhiker's and Sherlock happen in_ different _universes, John is still Arthur Dent._**

 ** _C; Both ways(depends on one-shot) John is Arthur and Trillian's son(Harry being John's cousin he was raised with. . .Random also appears.)_**

 ** _and D; Anything that is too depressing for me to put in the other ones. ; 3_**


	2. John's Rather Odd Photograph

_A/N: Holy cow, I did it! I wrote another entry for this! I've been working with Writer's Overload recently and haven't been able to write as much as I would like._

 _For old readers: yes, I have moved this under Sherlock, this is mostly since I'm planning to expand the fandoms of these one-shots and figured I might as well just say they're crossovers in the description instead of moving this fic around every time I change fandoms._

 _To new readers; Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Yet another 'drugs bust' was being perpetrated in 221b Baker Street, Marylebone, London, England, United Kingdom, Europe, Northern Hemisphere/Just under ten miles from technically being in the Eastern Hemisphere, Earth(Sol III), Sol system, ZZ Plural Z Alpha, the Universe.

Sherlock Holmes* had, once again, stolen and withheld evidence from one Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade's crime scene.

However, the item recovered in that raid wasn't the most interesting thing found.

No, it wasn't the toes in the fridge("Experiment!) Nor the note with one-half of it ripped off and pinned to the wall with a kitchen knife(the only legible words were "Sher- we've tal- the body- fridge do_ Molly to stop. John." and the angrily scribbled post-it note under it("John, you know that the heart was essential to the experiment that proved Miss Bordey was incapable being the one who stabbed Mr Poole in the heart with the ice pick. Do think before you say things. -SH.")

Rather, it was the picture of a young John Watson and some adults that was found in the couch cushions, or rather the small words written on the back of it.

The words on the back of the picture found in the cushions read as such; "Hello, Johnny! I had finally dragged your dad to Hawalius to visit the Old Woman in the Cave when I found this! So, of course, Arthur insisted we send this to you... I hope they managed to get this to you; the mail service around here is the absolute worst! Love ya, Trisha/Trillian(Arthur insisted)

Sorry about your mum John; I tried to stop her writing all that, but she's written it in pen. Please be good for the Watsons, I would rather not have to bring you to most of the places your mother insists we visit. Arthur."

The human that found the photo was the bane of Bowerick Wowbagger, First name unknown Anderson, who is well known for being the only being to have two or more names that had less than ten people in their life that knew more than one of them; as well as being one of the less pleasant specimens of humanity.

He quickly showed the picture to his On-again/off-again partner in crime, Sally Donovan, who was the one who spotted the not-quite-right thing stated in the small print.

"Ah! I was looking for that," John said, reaching for the photo.

Anderson and Sally didn't give it to him, opting to question him about it instead.

"Who are these people?" Anderson asked.

John looked at the picture, smiling slightly. "Let's see, that's my Uncle Ford, Uncle Zaphod, not that either was actually my uncle and my mom, Tricia Marie McMillan, though she preferred Trillian Astra."

Several eyebrows were raised at the rather odd names John had mentioned.

"What were your father talking about, 'be good for the Watsons?'" Sally asked.

John looked at her oddly. "He's talking about the family I've lived with since I was two." He got a lot of surprised looks. "You mean you didn't know that Watson isn't my original name?" he asked, honestly confused.

"What about Harry?" Sherlock's voice asked from the kitchen where he was instructing the officer who had taken the toes out of the fridge on how to properly return them to their chilly residence.

John looked amused as he looked over at the kitchen door, where Sherlock had suddenly appeared. "She's my third cousin I believe, but we might as well be siblings seeing as I've lived with her for almost as long as I remember."

Sally was suspicious, after all, what type of parent leaves their child with a distant relative without any apparent reason.

While Sally was staring at John, apparently stuck in time due to the author's reluctance to actually describe what was happening any more than what was necessary, Sherlock snatched the photo from Anderson's hands.

"Do you have a picture of your father?" Sherlock asked. John thought for a second for running up to his bedroom.

He quickly returned with a 100m by 148cm print in his hand. From where DI Lestrade was standing he could see the photo that was now in Sherlock's hands featured a grinning man who looked nearly identical to John with a cup of tea in hand and wildly decorated banner behind him that stated "Happy Forty-second birthday DentArthurDent!" Also behind the man were the same people seen in the first photo along with another, older, a man wearing a large fuzzy coat.

Sherlock flipped the picture over and read the writing on the back aloud, using slightly different voices for each of the different handwritings. "Arthur's 42nd birthday, (left to right)

Ford Prefect _Better known as Ix, right Earth-man_ **Nobody calls him that anymore Zaphod.** _Love ya too sweetheart!_

Slartibartfast I thought I told you my name wasn't important Arthur.

Arthur Dent **Love ya, sweetie!** _Hey Arthur, have you figured out The Question to Life, the Universe, and Everything, yet?_

Tricia Marie McMillian-Dent **You know I prefer Trillian, Arthur** _Yeah, give the little lady what she wants Earth-man_.

Zaphod Beeblebrox _That's right, and don't you forget it!_ _Do you think of anything other than your ego? If not, would you mind if I ran a few experiments?"_

Even Sherlock had to admit that his blogger's family was more than a little eccentric, though it did explain why he kept surprising Sherlock; he could obviously manage to hide some of his own odd habits with a family like that.

Only John seemed to think that this was perfectly normal behaviour or even vaguely sensible names.

"Your mother was American?" Sherlock asked.

John glared at Sherlock, daring the famously insensitive man to say something.

After several seconds of that he answered; "Yes, she was." He paused for a second, thinking. "That was probably why I ended up staying with Da and Mum."

Everyone looked confused, didn't he just say he lived with a different family?

Luckily, John recognised the confusion in the room, for once, and gave them an answer; "Sorry, my Uncle Robert and Aunt Joan Watson; I have lived with them since I was two, of course, I would call them some form of Mother and Father."

Shaking himself free of the stupor he had been in, Lestrade asked one of the questions buzzing around his brain like a mattress wondering just why all of its species was call Zem or what exactly it was supposed to gain from life, all while folloping and volloeing on their home planet of Sqornshellous Zeta; "Why did that one man call your father 'Earth-man'?"

John shrugged; "I have honestly no idea*. Not too much out of the ordinary, though, Uncle Zaphod often claimed he was kidnapping himself just to get out of work and away from his vice-president."

In the end, it turned out the evidence had, in fact, been misplaced by Forensics and not stolen by Sherlock and soon the entire incident of "John Watson is in fact not really John Watson" was forgotten*.

* * *

 _*Sherlock Holmes_ (see entry); _well known as one of the most brilliant detectives of the 20th-21st century in the area of ZZ Plural Z Alpha. Exceptionally famous due to his adventures later being embellished, written, and published by his not quite Earth native flatmate and friend, John H. Watson/John Hamish Watson McMillan Astra Dent_ (see entry).

* * *

* _This is a lie on Mr Watson's part, but in his mind a necessary one. His father, Arthur Dent_ (see entry), _was called Earth-man by President of the Galaxy, Zaphod Beeblebrox due to the fact that he was from Earth. However, this is rather hard to explain to the rather ignorant inhabitants of Earth, who have yet to realise their near daily contact with 'extraterrestrial' beings._

* * *

* _Well, at least it was by the lesser minds of (First name unknown) Anderson_ (see entry) _and Sally Donovan_ (see entry); _Sherlock later reluctantly asked his brother, Mycroft Holmes_ (see entry), _about the names John had provided him with._

 _There were too many Arthur Dents to narrow down which one John had been talking about, but the only Tricia Marie McMillian_ (see entry) _on record had been born nearly nine years after John and the only Ford Prefect_ (see entry) _was a man who had showed up out of nowhere and claimed to be from Guildford, despite having a clearly American accent._

 _There was no record of a Zaphod Beeblebrox_ (see entry) _or Slartibartfast_ (see entry).

 _Did we mention that this was checked in all countries' databases, not just the U.K.'s?_

* * *

Copyright " _The Official Unofficial Companion Book to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy; Information on Some Less Important Things, But You Still May Find Interesting."_

 _Published_ Earth Year 2017 _, by the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor._

 _If you find this book for free anywhere but from a fellow Hitchhiker, please assume it has been stolen or hacked from our database and return to the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor next time you Hitchhike there, you will be given a free copy from one of our resident Hitchhikers._

 _This entry was written by; Idreta Gilloffee_ (see entry) _originally from Autt_ (see entry), _a long-term Hitchhiker and consultant of Usseb Thosnek_ (see entry), _the author of "What Are the Babel Fish, And Where Do They Come From?"_ (see entry)

* * *

 _A/N: No, I'm not kidding; the Mattresses of Sqornshellous Zeta are canon to the books!_

 _And the "handwritting" is as follows; Arthur's is the plain text, Zaphod Beeblebrox's are the italics, Bold is Trillian/Tricia, Underlined is Slartibartfast, and Underlined and italics are Ford Prefect/Ix._


	3. John's Wife

**_A/N: So for my brain to make up for not doing anything for May 4th, it decided to write something for Towel Day! Which is today! Anyway, this is also the 1st year anniversary of my first one-shot in this story! Hope you enjoy and that it doesn't seem_ to _rushed!_**

* * *

As you very well might know, it is not uncommon for the most improbable of events to occur. Nor is it unheard of for the most unlikely of people to know each other or, yes, even be the same person.

One instance, which involves all of the above, demonstrates must how unimaginably improbable the universe is.

* * *

John Watson, as he is known in London in the second decade of the twenty-first century, had a very odd life, even odder than people knew. You see, years after he met Sherlock Holmes (or perhaps years before as it all depends on how you view time) John Watson was faced with someone he thought he'd never see again,

It happened while he was in a pub with Greg Lestrade (and unbeknownst to John, Sherlock, who was lurking in the background disguised as a rather disheveled German tourist.)

"Arthur!" a voice called, causing John to turn around for reasons unknown to Lestrade (and Sherlock.)

John's eyes lit up in recognition when he spotted the dark-haired woman who had called out.

"Tricia!" he cried, quickly getting to his feet to hug her.

(Meanwhile, Sherlock was silently trying to figure out why this 'Tricia' had called his flatmate 'Arthur.'*)

John turned to Lestrade, a huge, lovesick grin on his face. "Greg," he said. "This is my lovely wife, Tricia Marie McMillan, though she prefers Trillian," he said, quickly giving the girl a loving kiss.

Greg almost spit out his drink; "Your _wife_?" he asked, his voice hoarse from nearly choking.

Pulling on a chain around his neck, John showed Greg the small silver wedding band hanging from it.

While Lestrade (and Sherlock) sat stunned, John pulled Tricia into another hug. "How is everyone?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Ford's fine, he's working on some article or another*; Zaphod is working on his next campaign*; Marvin's as depressing as ever; Slartibartfast is very excited about the recent economy boost; and who knows what in the universe Random* is doing," she sighed. "Oh! I've been working as a reporter!" she added, clapping her hands together.

John grinned, still holding his wife tight. "I'm sure Random is fine," he told her. "She's an adult now, and I know for a fact that she can hold her own."

Finally snapping out of his (their) shock Lestrade (and Sherlock) had a few questions to ask, namely why on Earth John's wife, and wasn't that a whole other issue, called the doctor "Arthur. "

But before he (they) could ask any of his (their) questions, a tall, somewhat older man* wearing a supremely fluffy fur coat walked in. Instead of any intelligible language, what came out of his mouth was a seemingly nonsensical string of vowels that somehow sounded rather sophisticated. "Ioye uieu?" the man asked. He stared at John before coming over to awkwardly embrace the doctor. "Ioie uuae, Arthur," the man said.

John laughed. "I'm fine. Though shouldn't you get going? I'm sure Ford is excited to see you two" he said escaping from the hug.

Awkwardly smiling, the man motioned to Trillian and then back to the door. "Oiuayo, iy?" he asked

Trillian nodded then turned and pecked John on the cheek. "Gotta go, Arthur," she said. "I'll see you around; I'll even try to drag Random and Ford along."

John grinned, an idea obviously entering his mind. "Why don't I see you off," he told her.

With that John took Trillian's arm and took off with the two strange and improbable people, leaving Lestrade (and Sherlock) confused.

A little while later, John came back with a huge smile on his face, a fluffy towel on his back, and a mysterious stain on his shirt that was definitely not there beforehand.

* * *

 _The reason for this, as you may know, is that John Watson's original identity before some improbable turns of events was that of the ape-descendant Arthur Dent, who was one of the two humans to escape the destruction of Earth Mark I_ (see entry.)

* * *

 _Strangely enough, due to a necessary time paradox, their friend Ford Prefect was working on this very article. Which is further proof of the improbability of the universe._

* * *

 _The campaign Zaphod Beeblebrox was working on was his re-election for the position of President of the Galaxy, a largely unnecessary endeavor as entities who truly ran the galaxy had decided that Zaphod was the perfect president and as such would be until he died. Th/ough the campaign did serve to perpetuate the illusion that the regular citizens of the Galaxy had power over who was president._

* * *

 _Random F. F. (Frequent Flyer) Dent (_ see Guide entry) _(Encyclopedia Galactica entry): Daughter of Arthur Dent(via sperm bank) and Tricia Marie McMillan-Dent AKA Trillian Astra. Temporary owner of The Guide Mark II (_ see entry.)

* * *

 _This, of course, was Slartibartfast, a Magrathean who won an award for his fjords in Norway. What he was saying can be essentially translated to this: "Um, are you ready to go?" "Hello, Arthur, it's been a long time. How are you?" And, "Shall we go, it's getting late after all." Of course, this was all translated for Arthur/John and Trillian/Tricia by the wonderful Babel Fish._

* * *

Copyright " _The Official Unofficial Companion Book to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy; Information on Some Less Important Things, But You Still May Find Interesting."_

 _Published_ Earth Year 2017 _, by the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor._

 _If you find this book for free anywhere but from a fellow Hitchhiker, please assume it has been stolen or hacked from our database and return to the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor next time you Hitchhike there, you will be given a free copy from one of our resident Hitchhikers._

* * *

 _This entry was co-written by; Uleltz Icti_ (see entry) _originally from Argabuthon - Universe D_ (see entry), _a recently deceased member of Universe C_ (see entry). _He currently resides in a version of Universe D made in his office at the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor. And Ford Prefect(_ see entry) _originally from Betelgeuse 5 and long time writer for the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy(_ see self-entry.)

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hey, guys! Seriously, hope you enjoyed! Please review, they make me happy when I'm stressed out! Love you all!**_


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